


An Honored Guest.

by Rubynye



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Crack, Gangbang, Interspecies, M/M, Threesome, Threesome Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-09
Updated: 2010-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 01:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pippin learns about an Elvish tradition, while Merry, Sam, and Frodo warm each other up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Honored Guest.

**Author's Note:**

> Meanwhile, [](http://mz-calligraphy.livejournal.com/profile)[**mz_calligraphy**](http://mz-calligraphy.livejournal.com/) is a bad woman *blows kisses*, and my resistance is lowered in the middle of the night, so here goes. First draft, unbetaed, unedited, probably will embarass me in the morning. Maybe after I get this out of my system I can get some sleep.
> 
> The first two paragraphs are hers.

Title: An Honored Guest.  
Author: ~~a delirious woman~~ Ruby Nye  
Rating: NC-17  
Summary: Pippin learns about an Elvish tradition, while Merry, Sam, and Frodo warm each other up.  
Warning: oodles of wrongness

"You are an honored guest in Rivendell, Master Peregrin..." Legolas shook out his flowing blond hair. "And for the elves there is a special tradition..." The laces of his tunic fell away easily, almost as if by magic. "Dating back over centuries... reserved only for honored guests."

"Indeed, the fair Prince of Mirkwood speaks true." Lord Elrond held out a glass of plum-colored wine to Pippin, sighing in satisfaction as the hobbit drank deeply. "And he is not the only one to join in this... tradition. Glorfindel?" Another elf appeared at the entrance to the royal bedchamber. He wore only a strategically placed burgundy loincloth. "Call the others."

 

*|^|*

 

Merry felt Sam's blush beneath his mouth before he even heard Frodo's chuckle. "There you are! And one of my cousins too. Hullo, Merry, is there room in the bed for me?"

"There's room in this bed for half of Buckland." Merry pressed another kiss to Sam's mouth before turning to lean over the edge of the bed and give Frodo a hand up. "You don't mind my borrowing Sam, do you? We thought you were asleep."

"Of course not." Frodo knelt beside them, took Merry's face in his hands to kiss him soundly, leaned over to kiss Sam thoroughly as well. "I'm glad to see you finally enjoying Rivendell," Frodo added cheerfully to Sam, who turned a deeper red and mumbled something inaudible as he wrapped an arm around Frodo's waist. "And, no, I'm not asleep, as you might see. I was talking to Pippin, but he realized he'd left his cloak in the Great Hall and went back for it. I went looking for him, and found you two instead."

"I'm sure he's off exploring," Merry said, drawing Frodo down to lie beside him. "And I'm glad you found us." Sam nodded and leaned over to return Frodo's kiss with interest.

 

*|^|*

 

"Merciful Valar," gasped Elrond, flopping over onto his back quite gracefully, if rather bonelessly. "What a freckled dervish you are, Peregrin."

Hands already full again, Pippin grinned at Elrond. "I love this tradition, sir," he replied as Legolas moaned musically. "I feel I've been preparing for this all my life."

"Doubtless for much of it," Elrond replied, hauling himself to a sitting position, the better to watch the golden-haired Prince of Mirkwood writhing beneath the small wicked hands of this small wicked hobbit. "You strike me as one precocious and full of a desire to learn."

"I want to know everything." Pippin smiled down at Legolas. "Including if Wood-Elves taste different than Rivendell-Elves." With that he bent his head, and Legolas arched like his fabled bow, crying out.

*|^|*

 

"Mmmm, sirs," murmured Sam, one strong arm round each of the gentlehobbits. Merry chuckled and licked his lips, and opened his eyes to see Frodo snuggled into Sam's embrace, eyes closed, looking flushed and full of life. "Oh, Merry, oh, Sam, I feel so warm," Frodo whispered rapturously. "Finally warm."

"You look warm," Merry observed, leaning over to stroke Frodo's dark hair from his brow. Sam smiled his agreement, kissed Frodo's bared brow, kissed Merry's stroking hand. Merry leaned over to kiss Sam again, enjoying his sturdy warmth until Frodo chuckled and they turned their heads to look at him. "Of course, if we went for another round," Frodo said, sliding one hand over Sam's chest and another along Merry's flank, "I could end up being good and hot."

Merry laughed; Sam smiled and shook his head. "You oughtn't to overtire yourself, Mr. Frodo," he replied, and Frodo grinned up at him and licked his nose. "Why, Sam, I'm lying down," Frodo replied, and Sam chuckled breathlessly as Merry ran his tongue up along his ear.

 

*|^|*

 

Pippin had one foot braced against the headboard and his hands wound in Glorfindel's long hair as he bounced enthusiastically in the Elf's lap. "Oh, yes, mighty Elf, yes, mighty prince, yes, Balrog-slayer, tup me tup me tup me ah!" Throwing his head back, Pippin tensed, his entire frame shaking, and Glorfindel moaned and clutched the hobbit in his arms as Pippin's peak sparked his own.

"Impressive," said Elladan, undoing his brother's laces.

"Splendid," agreed Elrohir, as they watched Pippin nuzzle Glorfindel's finely-drawn collarbones, laying a kiss to the hollow where they met.

"Albeit, just---"

"---a bit----"

"---noisy. But we---"

"---have the right gags---"

"---for that rosebud mouth----"

"---don't we?"

"Oooh," moaned Pippin, raising his curly head from Glorfindel's heaving chest, his green eyes wide and sparkling with delight. "Ooooh, yes, _please_."

 

*|^|*

 

Merry sat bolt upright, dislodging Frodo's arm from his chest and Sam's's head from his shoulder, and thereby waking them both. "It's late, Mr. Merry," Sam mumbled; Frodo snapped, "For the love of small apples, Merry, aren't you tired?"

"Speaking of apples," said Merry, "have neither of you wonderered where Pippin has got to?"

"Oh." Frodo and Sam sat up on either side of Merry, looking awake and worried. "Oh," Frodo said again, but then shook his head. "This is _Rivendell_, Merry, I'm sure he's perfectly safe."

"Yes, but is the rest of Rivendell safe from a roaming Pippin?"

Frodo and Sam considered that question for a moment, before all three hobbits leaped out of bed and threw on their clothes.

 

*|^|*

 

While Pippin was quite effectively gagged, he was hardly silent, and neither was he still. Erestor lay entwined with his lord Elrond and the still-recovering Glorfindel, as they watched a freckled slip of halfling writhing with pleasure between the awestruck, trembling Twins; Legolas lay draped sideways across a nearby chair, sound asleep. "An honored guest indeed," Erestor murmured, stroking Glorfindel's hair. "And one with stamina, as well."

"Indeed," sighed Glorfindel with a dazed, delighted smile. "I have enjoyed longer congresses, more artistic or subtle, but I have never held in my arms such sheer exuberance. And freckles, too."

"And freckles, too," agreed Elrond. "I would like to count them one of these days."

"I think I would like to help." Glorfindel nodded. "We could each start with a limb and work inward."

Further musings on the matter of Pippin's freckles were forestalled when the Twins wailed, "Ai, Elbereth!" and collapsed as one. Pippin sat up, licking his lips, and stretched his arms over his head, most sinuously for someone so small, and looked over at Erestor with a sly smile. "Who's next?"

 

*|^|*

 

As he had been unable to convince Frodo to stay in bed and rest, Sam had settled for holding Frodo's hand in his, to be as close as possible if Frodo needed his aid. Merry walked behind them, listening intently to the wordless, musical sound of at least one Elf moaning. It echoed and swirled along the halls, and the hobbits were hard-put to find the source, but finally they came to a door that glowed with a special light; the musical cries were intertwined with a deeper, rougher note as they spilled forth.

The three hobbits looked at one another for a long moment, before Frodo sighed, squared his shoulders, and knocked. The moans wavered, stopped. A rustling was heard within, and then the door opened, and Frodo gasped, and Merry gaped, and Sam cried out , "Mr. Strider!"

For indeed it was Aragorn who stood there, wrapped in half of a bedsheet, the other half of the sheet wound around Boromir behind him. Boromir looked a touch grumpy, but Aragorn's expression was mild. "Master hobbits, what might I do for you? Please speak quickly, the hour is late."

"Um." Frodo shook his head, tried again. "Aragorn. Ah. I beg your pardon, we beg your pardon, for this most, um, untimely intrusion, but we seem to have lost Pippin, and we thought he might be in, um, there."

"You seek Pippin." Aragorn looked at Boromir. "My lord of Gondor, are there any halflings in this chamber tonight?"

"I think not, my Ranger," Boromir replied. "There are two Men, one rather ill-favored and weatherbeaten---" Aragorn smiled---"and an Elf whose beauty is almost too much for mortal eyes---" musical laughter rippled from the depths of the chamber---"but no halflings, not tonight."

"Oh. Well, um, then, thank you, and goodnight." Reaching back to take Sam's hand and grab Merry's wrist, Frodo turned away from the door, which shut behind them, and after a couple of moments the unearthly beauty of the elvish moaning began resounding from the hallway walls and ceiling once again.

 

*|^|*

 

"Oh. that was just _grand_," Pippin said to the room at large. "Just grand indeed. What a capital welcoming ritual. There's only one thing as could make it better."

"Better, Master Peregrin?" Elrond replied, bringing Pippin another goblet of richly purple wine; Pippin tilted his cheerful face up so invitingly that Elrond couldn't resist giving him a kiss as well. "We have been celebrating this tradition for thousands of years, my dear small one, so you must let me know how it might be perfected."

"Seconds," said Pippin, reaching up with his free hand to wind it in Elrond's hair. "Seconds of all of you." And he drew Elrond back down beside him for another kiss, and much much more.

*|^|*

 

"Wait," said Merry, and the other two obediently paused as he laid his ear to another door. "Wait, I know that snoring."

Sam tilted his head to listen, but Frodo looked a bit skeptical. "I shudder to think whom we might disturb this time," he said, shaking his head. "And it's someone else's turn to open the door."

Merry looked at him imploringly, and Frodo shook his head harder. "Oh, no." Frodo folded his arms; Merry glanced at Sam, who shrank back behind Frodo, brown eyes wide. Sighing, Merry squared his shoulders and knocked, and, when they recieved no answer, opened the door----

\----and saw, by the light of mighty candles and the lambent Imladris glow, several Elves draped over various bits of furniture, all nude, all asleep as if exhausted. None of them lay in the wide white bed; in the middle of the bed lay a small curled figure, a curly-haired figure, sleeping peacefully with tender lips parted, wide eyes closed.

"_Pippin?!_" Merry gasped. No one stirred. "Frodo, that's Pippin in there, and he's sound asleep."

Frodo shook his head again. "Well, that explains a great deal. I suppose we'd better go get him, Sam."

"Me, Sir?" Sam's eyes went even rounder, if that were possible. "Me? I can't go in there, with those great and high Elves all, all---"

"----All worn out by our very own Pip?" Merry took one of Sam's hands; Frodo took the other. "We need for you to carry our sleeping Took."

Hauling Sam between them, the hobbits entered the room, walking with wonder amidst the slumbering Elves. They got Pippin down from the bed and into Sam's arms, where he curled up again with a smile on his face, and walked back through the halls to Merry's bedroom.

They never did find Pippin's clothes.

 

*|^|*

 

The next morning, Merry and Sam were late to breakfast, and so bleary-eyed that Bilbo took one look at them and said, "have you lads been drinking?"

"No, Bilbo," Merry sighed. "Just wandering the halls of this fair House late at night." Sam merely yawned, though his cheeks were quite pink.

"Ah," said Bilbo, mystified. "And where is Frodo? Was he also exploring the halls with you?"

Sam turned entirely red. "You might say that," Merry replied, feeling his own cheeks and eartips heating, as he thought of Pippin and Frodo curled up in the big bed, neither of them at all inclined to wake. "You might indeed."


End file.
